


Don't Need to Say a Thing

by ClothesBeam



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: BDSM, Daddy Kink, M/M, Spanking, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, sorta maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 04:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6105061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClothesBeam/pseuds/ClothesBeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodimus' unresolved guilt leads him to seek punishment. Megatron's erotica doesn't help the matter any.</p><p>Or does it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Need to Say a Thing

The first thing Megatron heard when he entered the captain’s office was Rodimus’ cursing. He took a moment to consider the ceiling before approaching the desk. Undoubtedly whatever was wrong would become his problem now that the shifts were changing.

“What is it?” he finally asked when he was standing right behind the desk Rodimus was bent over. The chair looked like it had been kicked across the room in a panic.

“It’s nothing to worry about!” he said too quickly, pawing through another pile of datapads.

“Perhaps wording the question differently will help you answer. What did you lose?” He moved away to retrieve the chair that had rolled across the room, with the thought that having a less intimidating presence would encourage Rodimus to answer sometime today.

Just as he returned, Rodimus stood up properly with a few datapads in hand. “Just thought I should be the one to take care of these. Have fun now, bye!”

But Megatron hadn’t survived as long as he had without asking questions of suspicious subordinates. Or, technically equals, in this case. He grabbed Rodimus’ arm as he turned away and he froze, giving Megatron ample opportunity to snatch and scrutinise the paperwork in question.

Reports on medibay supplies, fuel supplies, and a spreadsheet of the incarceration frequency of different crew members that could be ordered according to all manner of factors. Then, at the bottom of the pile was one of his old writing journals. Megatron must have accidentally left it here while revising some of his older work during the long night shifts. He would describe the shifts as quiet, but with this crew, not many of them were.

Rodimus ducked his head, projecting what was probably the maximum amount of shame he was capable of. Megatron took another look at the datapad in question and checked the date. He raised a brow upon recognising it. He hadn’t thought Rodimus would be the type to get embarrassed about reading erotica.

“All of that nonsense over this?” Megatron softened his grip on his co-captain’s arm, only now realising the strength in his hold. “Where did you even find it? I don’t make a habit of leaving this kind of thing lying around.”

Rodimus wouldn’t look him in the optic, and when he answered his voice was subdued. “I was looking for a missing incarceration report for Magnus when I found it in the top drawer of the desk. You probably have the thing he’s after lying around in your quarters.”

“I’ll make a note of it,” he muttered, keeping the important reports and returning his book to him without thinking. He realised his mistake when Rodimus didn’t run out of the office as fast as he could, as he normally did at the end of a shift.

Megatron didn’t falter as he sat at the desk and started rifling through his in-tray. He found himself examining the ceiling yet again when Rodimus still didn’t make a move.

“You can run along now. I’m perfectly capable of doing this without supervision.”

“You _want_ me to read this?”

Megatron pinched the bridge of his nose. It didn’t look like this headache was going away any time soon. “Why would I write if I didn’t want to be read? If you like it then I won’t take it off you. Just stop reading it on shift. _I’m_ the one who has to make up for you slacking off, remember?”

“Is this how you used to punish your crew members, Megatron? Is this how you’re punishing _my_ crew members?” he demanded, looking briefly horrified.

This clearly wasn’t going to go away on its own. “I’ve written countless things, Rodimus. Remind me how this one goes again?”

“Where one guy is admitting all the bad slag he did and the other is punishing him for it,” he blustered too loudly, as usual.

“If it was that easy to get Starscream to admit what he’d done, I wouldn’t be…” He trailed off before he could say ‘here’, and everything that implied. While he often grumbled about this position being his real punishment, he was actually glad to be on the Lost Light. Glad he’d been reminded of why he’d stood up and spoken out in the first place.

He corrected himself, realising Rodimus was still having a difficult time with recognising his sarcasm. “Not even I, _terrible_ as I am, would abuse my subordinates like that. Just because I wrote it, doesn’t mean I would do it.”

“Oh.”

Was that… disappointment?

“Were you hoping for a different answer?” Even he had to admit this was far more entertaining than the waiting paperwork.

Rodimus leaned against the desk with his legs crossed and put the datapad down. “Well, Ultra Magnus isn’t into meting out punishments like that.” Rodimus rested a hand on his knee and slowly dragged both it and Megatron’s gaze up his thigh.

He continued looking up even after the hand had rested on his hip. When their optics met Rodimus’ lust became obvious. He glanced away quickly, looking ashamed of himself.

Megatron pushed away from the desk slightly and unfolded his arms. He patted his thigh and Rodimus glanced back with a question in his eyes. Megatron tilted his head and made a slight beckoning motion. Rodimus moved his aft before he could mentally talk himself out of it.

Rodimus sat on the leg he’d indicated, and looked a little nervous now. Megatron grabbed him by the jaw and hunched over to kiss him. Rodimus responded enthusiastically, fingers making great effort to dig dents into his chest armour. When he pulled back, the narrow speedster’s faceplate was warm and his legs were pressed together.

“What do you want from this, Rodimus? A spanking?”

“Something like that,” he muttered, glancing away.

“You don’t have to be ashamed. Nothing that happens here will leave this room, understand?” He held his chin gently, not making him look up, but trying to show a tenderness he knew Rodimus didn’t believe he had. “You have to be able to trust me at least a little if we’re going to do this.”

Rodimus turned away suddenly, swinging his leg over so that he was straddling Megatron’s thigh. He leaned his arms and shoulders on the desk, putting a nice curve in his back. “I trust you to give me what I deserve.”

The significance of his wording didn’t escape Megatron’s notice. He was actively seeking punishment for something. “Then you had better tell me what that is,” he replied quietly as he ran his hands down the small of Rodimus’ back, passing over his aft.

“I ran away from my responsibilities,” he stated.

Megatron didn’t say anything, but simply brought his hand down across Rodimus’ aft. He angled it so his hand bounced off with more of a smack, rather than landing a solid blow. It was still powerful enough to make him jolt forward a little. Megatron remained still and silent, waiting.

“I put my crew in danger for no reason at all.”

He brought his hand down again, in a slightly different place this time. He noticed Rodimus grind into him as he returned to the original position. Megatron squeezed two fingers of his other hand between the interfacing panels and his thigh, trying to stimulate him further.

“I lied to them, then I couldn’t protect them,” he whispered. “Some of them died!”

When his hand came down this time, Rodimus gasped and his panels opened. Megatron felt the lubricant his valve had been gathering dribble down his fingers and onto his thigh. Rodimus whimpered and rutted against him. Megatron finally felt his own array stir at the sight of his co-captain’s obvious arousal.

“I-I… I let my best friend become a martyr.”

He moaned out loud when Megatron found his cluster of external sensors. He glanced back over his shoulder, mouth hanging open and optics slightly unfocused, probably wondering when the next strike was coming.

“Anything else?” Megatron asked, feeling his spike push at his own panels at the further confirmation that his partner was actually enjoying this. It wasn’t purely self-flagellation.

He glanced away and shrugged as best he could in his current position. Two of his fingers slid easily into Rodimus’ valve. He left his co-captain to impale himself on his digits and returned his attention to hitting him across his backside.

“I’m sorry,” he moaned, and Megatron let his own spike emerge when Rodimus’ rubbed against his thigh through the spreading fluids. “I just… I just…”

“Rodimus,” Megatron murmured. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Something like gratitude passed through his optics before he turned away again, shifting back into a more comfortable position. “Yes, Captain,” he murmured, keeping his optics fixed firmly on the desk.

Megatron felt himself surge forward, letting his spike rub up the inside of his thigh. Rodimus let out a squeak when he was pushed forward so he was bent over the desk, but Megatron didn’t comment on it. He simply took hold of his hips and lined him up with his spike. “Do you want this?”

“Yes, please, Captain!”

“All right, you don’t have to say anything more,” he replied, reaching up to rest one of his hands over Rodimus’ mouth. When he pressed himself into it, he clamped down on his mouth properly. Megatron pressed forward and felt more than heard Rodimus’ moan against his hand.

When he appeared comfortable, Megatron increased his pace and let out a groan of his own. He revelled in the feeling of the tight, slick valve stretched around him, and Rodimus’ shapely body shuddering beneath him.

Rodimus’ moans grew progressively louder as he got closer to finishing, but he kept his mouth pressed against Megatron’s palm. His valve squeezed around him as he overloaded, and he tugged Megatron along with him.

They were both still for a moment before Megatron moved away, slowly and carefully withdrawing from him. Fluids seeped out of his valve, and Megatron admired the view while his co-captain took his time to recover.

When Rodimus pushed himself up and looked at him, he was back to being shame-faced and unusually reserved.

“What we did won’t leave this room. And I don’t think any less of you.”

He opened his usually loud mouth as if to say something, but ended up just closing it and smiling hesitantly.

“You don’t need to say anything. Besides, it’ll be your turn to be captain again in about eleven hours.”

Rodimus’ smile grew as he nodded. He turned away and made his way back to his quarters. Fortunately they were connected to the office, so he didn’t have to wander the corridors while he was a mess.

Megatron noticed his old writing journal had disappeared again. The ceiling in here _was_ rather interesting.


End file.
